I haven't written since Christmas.
Nothing really to say. I work now. 9-5. Trying not to let any of it get too important. Hour drive each way. People are OK. I still get the laundry done and go to the commissary.
I once wrote on FaceBook that "My life is so good that it is unrecognizable." I must have been hypomanic.
It only lasted for a couple of days.
Then I crashed.
One of my medications has caused me to gain a lot of weight. I was a happy too thin 105. Now I'm 145. If I didn't know better I'd say it made me want to kill myself, but really it just makes me want to stay out of sight. I look slightly pregnant. I'm never wearing a bikini again. I hate my shirts and most of my clothes don't fit properly anymore.
People laugh and say that no one gains 40 pounds over night, but it is kind of like that--it just happened. Pound by pound the weight just keeps coming but doesn't go away and does not stop coming.
Why am I admitting this disgusting yet minor travesty?
Because it happens to people. People gain weight. Medication has side effects. I almost always experience the side effects of a medication. Two of mine slow down the metabolism and can cause weight gain.
I was always skinny and now I'm not.
I have been eating less and I still do not lose weight.
So I'm getting depressed. I'm getting depressed about my body and I am also just getting depressed, which makes the cost analysis of the medication lousy.
Still, I have to take it. I cannot get worse than this. I cannot let people at work know that there is anything wrong with me and I cannot let Justin have anything to worry about.
So these are the things I have to do: exercise, call people, sleep.
I haven't been sleeping well. I have to take the sleeping pills again. Sleep loss is a symptom and a cause of depression. I have to manage it.
I haven't been using the phone. I have to return phone calls. I cannot let myself isolate--I have to connect with people.
I haven't been exercising. I haven't had the motivation, but now I am so scared about my mental and physical health that I simply must force myself to get out there and walk or run or go to the gym.
Those are the three hardest things for me to do and the three most important things for me to do at once.
So I haven't been writing.
One person noticed and knew it was a red flag, and now we have to pay attention.
I was trying to plow through and deny the drop, the pain, the possibility that I wasn't just adjusting to the new schedule but that I was suffering a drop in my mood, but denial does not work. It is not a cure. Denial is part of what got me into the depths of my despair in the first place. I can't pretend, at least not to myself. I'll pretend for work and I'll be strong for Justin (who I know will love and support me no matter what, but whom I want to protect just a little bit), but for myself and for anyone who has been following this journey of depression with me, you have to know that it is not all easy. I had six good months. I didn't believe it would last, and then I didn't take advantage of the time, and then I didn't notice.
And then it was over.
So now I have to work again.
I know what to do--the GRAPES.
Be Gentle with myself.
Do something Pleasurable.
For me, this time, this is going to mean gently forgiving myself for my weight, telling myself I'm beautiful, at least accepting that it will be a long road to my healthy weight.
I have to rest--read a book, watch TV, take a short nap. Write.
I have to keep going to work and getting work done while I am there.
I have to enjoy something each day--or at least do something I used to like. It might not make me feel pleasure, but it will remind me of the action that makes me happy. So I should get out there and take a walk, I should call a friend, I should smile...
Exercise. Run, walk, yoga, kickboxing, push-ups, sit-ups, something.
Socialize. Even interaction at lunch should count for me, but calling someone would be a great stride. Answering the phone.
OK. There. Now you know. I was gone because I started disappearing again. But my therapist caught me, and now I have to work on coming back into focus.
That was a lot to tell a bunch of strangers. But I am sitting on my couch in the dark, so it was kind of easy. jk (about the easy part) This blog has become something more than a journal or a link to friends. I know other people with similar medical disorders read this blog--this entry is for you.
Barack Obama wants us to live in service--every day--to the world. Maybe my service is going to be really close to home. I have to get healthy. I have to lead by example. I have to be there for Justin so he can be there for his patients so they can be there for their families so...
and I will write about it.